


I Would Follow

by Captain_Assbut_at_221B



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Coming Out, Cute, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel Angst, Destiel Fluff, Fluff, GAY GAY GAY, Gay Castiel (Supernatural), Gay Gabriel (Supernatural), Good Brother Dean, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, John is a dick, John is homophobic, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Michael is a dick, Multi, Other, Pansexual Sam, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam's Hair, Smut, Supernatural - Freeform, Tagggs, Tags, Top Dean Winchester, angsty, dean doesnt like magic that much, gayyyy, yay tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-13 12:49:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20582765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Captain_Assbut_at_221B/pseuds/Captain_Assbut_at_221B
Summary: Dean Winchester never expected to fall in love. In all honesty, he had never expected to discover that he was bisexual either. But Castiel Novak happened. And both the things he least expected happened too. But when John found out, and when Michael, castiel's legal guardian found out, they were torn apart.Dean Winchester never expected his sweet, darling, blue eyed Castiel to fall out of love with him. He never expected it to be forced by their parents. He never expected to lose him like this. To have him turn into someone who seemed to not even remember the fact that dean was even in existence. But it happened.And Dean didn't know what to do.Set in J.K. Rowling's world of witchcraft and wizardry, watch as Dean falls in love, and like all falling does, breaks.Second and final book in a series! READ If You Call My Name first!!





	1. Chapter 1

BOOK TWO  
Dean stared at the wall. He didn’t want to get out of bed. He could hear his father stirring in the room below them. He knew he should get up, go make Sam and him some food before their dad came in, all pissy, but he didn’t want to. Exams were over for sixth year now. Sam had a ton of O.W.L.S, Dean barely passed. It had been almost four months since Dean had been left standing alone in the courtyard. It had been four months since he had seen Cass. It had been four months of beatings, fear, and finally, giving up. Dean found out he slept better if he buried it all. Not that he cared about sleeping. But Sam worried for him. And Dean didn’t want Sam to worry. He dragged himself out of bed and wandered over to his dresser. The apartment they were staying in was disgusting. There were suspicious stains on the walls and it looked like someone had their kidney removed in the bathtub. Dean’s clothes were all in trash bags on the matted carpet. He had tried to give Sam the best room. At least Sammy had a bedstead. Dean’s bed was just a thin mattress thrown lazily on the carpet, facing the wall. He tugged a cleanish pair of jeans out of one of the garbage bags and yanked them on. He pulled a t-shirt on and tucked his necklace from Sam inside his shirt. He wasn’t allowed to wear it on him at school, but it stayed in his pocket always. In the summer, he wore it like it was intended to be worn. Like a necklace. He tugged on some socks and his redwing work boots, and then walked over to the kitchen. Sam was up, making coffee for their dad, munching on an old piece of bacon. Dean ruffled his hair a little as he passed. Sam leaned to the side. He was taller than Dean now by a good bit. No more ducking for him. He gently kicked Dean as he passed. They didn’t talk. Sam and Dean didn’t really talk a lot in the summer. What they did say was little, and everything else was always communicated through pats, glances, or eyebrow signals. It was just safer that way when they were around their dad. Dean had told Sam what Gabriel had said, but he didn’t understand why Sam had spent a lot of time sad about it. Maybe Gabriel and Sam were closer than Luci and Sam. Luci. Dean had never liked him very much, but he was afraid for him too. He didn’t know Michael Novak well, but he knew enough to know that whatever had become of Cass and Gabe and Luci was not good. John stumbled into the kitchen. He was still drunk from the night before. He took some of the old bacon and drank the coffee black. Dean and Sam sat quietly. John stood, yawned, and looked at the two of them. “I'm going to work.” He looked at the apartment. “This place is a fucking pigsty. Clean it.” He tossed his empty beer bottle from the night before at the trash, missed, and it shattered. Sam flinched. John looked self satisfied. He looked at Dean, who looked back. John belched and glared. “Faggot.” Dean looked at the ground. There were still bruises on him from his last beating. And besides, without Cass, there was no point in fighting back. Without Cass, there was no point in anything. John slammed the door on the way out. Dean went and got the broom. Sam started picking up the glass. They worked in silence. Dean scrubbed the layer of grime off of every surface, Sam washed all the clothes, and armed with every cleaning supply they had, they tackled the bathroom. When they were done, it was clean, and the Sam started back to his room. Dean caught his arm. “Wait Sammy. Come on, lets go have some fun.” Sam looked at him and shrugged. “Like what?” Dean grinned. “The train comes tomorrow, so I don’t know, watch a movie? Get blitzed? Get stoned? Get laid? All of the above?”Sam sighed. “How about a movie?” Dean grinned. “Works for me!” He pinched Sam’s ass. “Get cleaned up.”   
A little bit later the two of them were walking down the street toward the movie theater. Sam looked at Dean. “Do we have any money?” Dean shook his head. “Nope.” Sam sighed. “How do you plan on getting in?” Dean grinned. “Seduction, Sammy boy.” They got to the movie and Dean walked up to the female ticket agent. A few sly moves later, and the two of them were in the back row for the 10:00 showing of Hell Hazers III. Dean fell asleep, and Sam had to shake him continually to keep him from snoring. But it was a good time. The first in a while. They walked home. Dean stopped in a grocery store and bought some beers. For some unknown reason—Sam thought it had something to do with Dean recently turning seventeen and not being restrained magically anymore—the clerk didn’t card him. The two of them stopped by the park and sat on the swings. Dean popped open two beers, handed one to Sam, and they drank together in silence. Dean looked out over the desolate playground. Sam wiped his lip and spoke. “So, last year at Hogwarts this year.” Dean nodded. Sam took a swig of his beer. “Do you know what you're going to do afterward?” Dean shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe become a mechanic? Use the magic to enhance my own magic with cars?” He sipped his beer. “I’m not much good at anything else.” Sam sighed. “Don’t say that.” Dean bit his lip. “I'm not smart enough to be an auror, I don’t want to work for the ministry, I'm a terrible cook, I can’t write, draw, or paint, I mean, what else is there to do?” He smiled at Sam. “But you, you're going to go above and beyond. You can be anything you want. Magical Law, Auror, Muggle Affairs, you could even be the damn Minister Of Magic.” Sam shrugged. “I don’t know either. I like the idea of Magical Law, but I don’t know. What I really want is a family. Kids. To settle down.” Dean smiled. “Good for you.” Sam drained his beer and looked over at Dean, who popped open another one for him. “You don’t want that?” Dean shrugged. “I don’t think I could hold it all together.” Sam bunched his brows together. “What do you mean?” Dean swallowed the lasts of his beer and popped open another one. “I’m damaged goods Sam. Daddy issues, drinking problems, the whole nine yards.” He took a long drink and smiled sadly. “Besides, who would ever want to be with a faggot anyway?” Sam’s heart sank. He could feel the self hatred in Dean’s words. And his own words bubbled out without warning. “Cass would.” Dean didn’t jerk at the mention of his name, but his body stiffened, and his Adams apple bobbed like there was something caught in his throat. Sam sighed. “I'm sorry.” Dean shrugged. “It’s okay.” But Sam knew it wasn’t. Then they sat in silence for a long time. Finally, Sam spoke again. “Dean?” Dean looked at him. “Yeah?” Sam swallowed hard. “I’m pansexual.” Dean looked at him and smiled. “Okay.” Sam looked confused. “Do you know what that means?” Dean nodded. “Yeah, it means you're attracted sexually to people no matter their genitalia. Pan means all, so you like every gender type that catches your eye. Boy, girl, trans, genderfluid, androgynous, agender, you name it.” He smiled. “It also means you're still my brother and I still love you.” Sam looked at him. “Wow.” Dean shrugged. “Hey, I read.” Sam grinned. “Okay.” Dean nodded. “Okay.” After a minute, he sucked in his breath. “I mean, you probably already know, so that kind of defeats the purpose of coming out, but I'm bisexual.” Sam nodded. “Okay.” Dean smiled. “Okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

The train left the next morning. John was too drunk to drop them off, so with trunk in hand and Sam on his heels, Dean walked. They left early and when they ducked onto the platform, Dean looked for Cass right away. He didn’t see him, but he did spot Garth and Adam, who high fived him and helped him and Sam with their bags. Then slapping Sam on the back, the two of them parted ways. Dean, Garth, and Adam found a compartment together and the train lurched forward. Dean hadn’t seen any Novaks, and he just decided to come to terms with the reality that Michael had re enrolled them somewhere far away. But then the compartment door opened, and standing in the doorway was Gabriel. Dean jumped up. “Gabe?!” Gabriel nodded. “Heya Dean-o.” Dean hugged him and then motioned for him to sit down. “Gabe, Cass, is he okay?” Gabriel nodded. “He’s fine.” Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. “But Dean, he’s not the same.” Dean looked at him concernedly. “What do you mean?” Gabriel shot a look at Garth and Adam. Dean caught on. “Its okay, they know about us.” Gabriel nodded. “Michael, he was hard on all of us, but he was hardest on Cass. Luci tried to take some of the fire, but, Michael, he kicked him out. So then it was just me and Cass.” Gabriel bit his lip. “Cass tried to fight back. He stayed proud. He wrote you letters, but Michael burned them, he went to Pride for god’s sake. But then I don’t know what happened. Michael sent me away to visit Samandriel for a while. I didn’t want to leave Cassie, but he made me. And when I came back, well, Cass, he just wasn’t the same.” Gabriel sucked in a breath. “It’s like Michael finally broke him. And now, the Castiel you knew, he’s gone. He’s buried somewhere inside and he can’t get out.” Dean looked at the carpet. “Damnit.” Gabriel looked at Dean’s hands curling into fists. “Dean.” Dean looked up at him, and Gabriel was surprised to see a face of cold steel. “I won’t believe it until I see it for myself.” Gabriel’s shoulders fell. “Dean, I wouldn’t.” Dean set his jaw. “I loved him. I love him. He has to remember that.” Gabriel’s face reflected his ache, but he didn’t say anything. Dean looked out the window. “He has to.” He muttered to himself. And nobody answered.   
At the sorting, Dean didn’t even notice the new Gryffindors. His eyes were scouring the Hufflepuff table. And just as the last name was called, he found him. His heart leapt in his chest. Cass’s unmistakable tousled black locks were longer than last year. His shocking blue eyes were staring at his plate. His knobbly hands were tapping out a rhythm on the tabletop. Dean recognized the time signature as a Led Zeppelin song. Then Cass’s eyes darted across the Gryffindor table. They rested on Dean for a minute, but there was no sign of recognition. The look of adoration and love he had come to know and recognize were gone. And all that was left was a blank slate. All that was left was a face, one that Dean didn’t even know. And it broke him. Dean could barely choke down his food. Gabriel noticed but he didn’t say anything. If there were announcements, Dean didn’t hear them. If there was a new password to the dorms he didn’t hear it. If there was anything but the cutting pain of seeing Cass that way, he didn’t notice it. If there was anything else in the word, Dean was dead to it. He didn’t stick around the common room. He just went up to bed. Garth woke him up when he screamed, but after Garth fell asleep, Dean laid awake. He knew Gabriel was too. But they didn’t speak. They didn’t do anything. Dean just stared at the ceiling, Gabriel just stared at the wall. And they didn’t sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

In the morning, Dean went to class. They still had D.A.D.A with Hufflepuff, but Cass didn’t even acknowledge him. He talked to Gabriel, Garth, and Adam, but the only thing he did toward Dean was look at him with a hazed look. You would think by the way he looked at Dean he hated him. And Dean couldn’t handle that. So halfway through the lesson he got up, and walked out. He couldn’t stand the look in Cass’s eyes one second longer. He went down to the lake. He was going to duck into his and Cass’s alcove below the oak tree, but the moment he thought about it he changed his mind. That was their place. A place to go with Cass. Not to go to forget about him. He could never go there and forget him. He was woven into it. That was where Dean had first said, “I love you.” That was where he had first laid Cass bare, drinking every curve and tuck of his body. That was where he first… Dean made himself cut off his train of thought. He grabbed a flat rock and heaving back, he chucked it. It skipped happily across the water. That just made Dean think of the first time he touched Cass. The way he had tucked himself around him, teaching him how to flick his wrist just right. Dean turned around and punched the oak tree full force, and his knuckles split. The pain was blinding for a moment, and then he came down. And when he blinked the pain away from his eyes, Headmaster Singer was standing there. He was dressed like a muggle, a blue ball cap covering his thinning hair. “Nice right hook.” Dean shrugged and wiped the blood from his knuckles on his pants. Headmaster Singer looked at him. “So, I hear you walked out of Defense Against The Dark Arts?” Dean nodded. “So?” Headmaster Singer sighed. “Fair enough.” Dean rubbed his knuckles. Headmaster Singer walked closer. Dean adamantly looked at the ground. Headmaster Singer stood next to him now. And he spoke. “I’m sorry about the last time you saw me.” Dean bit his lip. “Look, headmaster,” Headmaster Singer cut him off. “Call me Bobby.” Dean nodded. “Bobby, it’s not your fault.” Bobby nodded. “I know. But I still shouldn’t have let your daddy take you home with him. You or Sam.” He bit his lip. “I should have tracked Michael down and taken those kids back.” He looked at Dean. “I should have protected you two.” Dean looked away. Bobby reached out and laid his hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean winced automatically. Bobby noticed, but he didn’t say anything about it. “Dean, I should have protected your love for Cass. I should have protected Cass’s love for you. And I'm sorry I didn’t.” Dean shrugged his hand off. “It doesn’t matter now.” Bobby bit his lip. “You're talking about Castiel’s new attitude toward you?” Dean nodded. He didn’t notice it until then, but his eyes were hot and there was a lump in his throat. Bobby nodded. “I thought at first it was a memory charm, easily reversed, but honestly, I'm pretty sure this was good old fashioned abuse.” Dean felt the first tear slip down his cheek. “Can we fix it?” Bobby sighed. “I don’t know.” The second tear dripped off of Dean’s nose. “He loved me.” Bobby looked at the ground. “I know.” Dean wiped the third tear from his cheek. And then he turned and walked away. And Bobby stood by the lake for a long time.   
Dean buckled down on schoolwork. Sam was obviously top of his class. Gabriel was scraping by. Dean didn’t know how Cass was doing because he wouldn’t talk to Dean still. But his look had gone from hatred to fear whenever he looked at Dean. And Dean wasn’t sure what was worse. For a while, when he was with Cass, his nightmares had gone away. But now they returned. And he stopped getting rest. So finally, he just gave up. He tried to get good enough grades to graduate, and he tried to forget how soft Castiel’s skin was, or what his lips tasted like, or how it had sounded when he had called Dean’s name. But no matter how hard he pushed it away, he couldn’t get rid of it. Cass’s shocking blue eyes haunted him when he slept, when he woke, when he worked, when he studied. And he couldn’t stay with it. So he left.  
Dean talked to Bobby and Professor Mills about it. He had never really had a true knack for magic, and he knew enough spells to get by. Honestly, he was a better muggle than he was a wizard. So halfway through his seventh year, he quit. He took a private exam with Bobby, passed, and left school. He talked to Sam about it, and though Sammy didn’t like it, he supported him anyway. The only thing he asked for was his blessing on his and Gabriel’s relationship, and a place to stay in the summer. Dean, of course, obliged on both. Then with a few dirty jokes, and a few rough, yet tender hugs, he said goodbye to Sam, Gabriel, Garth, and Adam. Then as he packed the rest of his things into his 1966 Chevy Chevelle (Bought with actual money, and no comparison to Baby, but he would get there.) he went to say goodbye to Cass.   
He found him down by the lake. Despite Cass acting like he had never known Dean his whole life, he still spent a lot of time in the places they had been together. The lake, the pitch, that dark hallway just past divination. Dean saw him standing by the water, his Hufflepuff scarf tight around his neck. Dean remembered another time, when they had sat here, just after Balthazar’s death. When Dean had wiped Cass’s tears, when his lips had first met Castiel’s, when the taste of saltwater and Cass’s plush lips were all he knew and loved. Dean walked up to him. He had ditched his school clothes in favor of his muggle attire, but he still wore his Gryffindor scarf. Cass saw him approach, and his look wasn’t one of greeting. The fear that Dean hated was in his eyes. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Hey Cass.” Cass didn’t answer. He just looked at Dean fearfully. Dean tucked his bottom lip under his slightly fanged canine. “I know you don’t want to remember why, or you just plain don’t remember at all, but I’m going to miss you.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “I'm going to America actually. Me and Baby 2.0, we’re on the next freighter out of here.” Cass still didn’t say anything. Dean could feel himself choking up again. He had to finish this up. “Cass, I don’t know what Michael did to you, but if you ever remember, if you ever decide to come back, I’ll want you.” Then quickly, just in case Cass got spooked, he pulled an index card from his pocket, pressed it into Cass’s palm, and kissed his cheek. Cass didn’t jerk back, but he seemed confused. Dean’s voice caught in his throat. “Goodbye.” And then before he could shed any tears, he quickly turned and walked up the hillside, got in his car, and drove away.   
Cass stood there, not looking at the card, for a long time. He saw Dean’s exhaust as he pulled away, and he saw the final glint of the paint as it faded into the distance. His free hand went to his face where Dean had kissed him. He could still recall the exact feeling of those soft lips, the light stubble, the wetness. He looked at the card in his hand. And then slowly, he looked at it. Scrawled in Dean’s handwriting were three things. Dean’s name, an address for a mechanic shop in Kansas, and a phone number. Cass creased it down the middle and tucked it into his pocket. And then he returned to class.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean decided he hated boats. It took him almost a day to get used to the rocking, and he threw up multiple times. He spent most of his time in the Chevelle, who he affectionately referred to as Baby 2.0. The cook’s daughter was pretty, and she thought Dean was the cat’s pajamas. She followed him all over, and he performed little magic tricks for her. She said she could have sworn they were real magic. So with the cook’s daughter to distract him as he sailed further and further away from Cass. Sam wrote him right away. Dean found some digs in a tiny town called Lebanon, got a job at the mechanic shop, and started life. He lived in Baby 2.0 for a while, and then when he had enough money, he shelled out for an apartment. He stopped using magic after a while. He still carried his wand everywhere, and used it to clean stubborn grease and to loosen tight bolts; but otherwise, the only thing he used it for was cooking. He could charm his kitchen to make him a delicious dinner while he showered, and save for the time he almost burned down the apartments, it worked pretty well. End of the Hogwarts year, and Dean was picking up Sam at the airport, who had Gabriel in tow. They were an official thing now at Hogwarts, the first outwardly gay couple in a while. Dean shacked them up in his guest room and put a silencing charm over it. He did not need to hear whatever antics they were getting into over there. Gabriel got a job at a muggle bakery, and Sam worked overtime on his studies so he could take exams at the end of the summer and graduate a year early. Life was good. Dean became a regular at the bar downtown, and before he knew it, he was the man candy for every girl in there. He knew he was bi, so he just shoved all thoughts of Cass from his mind, and hooked up with every chick that came by. And somehow, through it all, he almost forgot those shocking blue eyes, those gentle hands, and the tucks and curves of Cass’s body. Almost. He was always in the back of Dean’s mind. When he was fucking whoever the flavor of the month was, and she curled her back up to meet him, he remembered thrusting deep into Cass. When he kissed their necks, and he remembered how much he liked to feel stubble under his lips. When he woke up next to some blonde beach babe and he remembered how much he had loved waking up entwined with Cass. When some brown eyed babe was blowing him and she looked up and he was momentarily sad to see brown eyes instead of those shocking blue ones. But there was nothing he could do. Cass had gone to live with Luci in San Francisco, and the only one of their little Kansas trio he talked to was Gabriel. Gabriel stopped updating Dean after a while. The look of bitter loss on his face was too much whenever Cass was mentioned. So it just became a rule. Don’t talk about Cass. So they didn’t. But Dean still couldn’t get him out of his mind. No matter what, he was always lurking in the back.   
Always  
Dean met Benny at the bar. He was new in town, like Dean, and he was working down at the train yard. His job was to load and unload drums of oil from the boxcars. He was a muggle, but Dean was basically a muggle anyway; and Benny was nice. Dean bought him a beer, and they talked for a while. Benny was from the Deep South, and he talked like Alabama sounds. His drawl was almost dripping with it. Dean had dropped his British accent pretty fast, as he and Sam were originally from America anyway, and had gone across the pond to go to school. He told Benny he had studied in Britain, and come back to be a mechanic. Benny told him all about the Deep South, how he had worked on a literal alligator farm and had been kicked out of his family after he dated another boy. Dean told him about how he had been beaten for liking boys and girls. And that night, he brought Benny home.   
Dean hadn’t had sex with a guy since Cass. He thought about it all the time, but that seemed like something he needed to save for Cass. But Benny was funny and sweet and burly. He had strong, hairy arms, and tight abs and more chest hair than Dean had seen in a while. He took bottom though, so Dean got to ride him. And just as he remembered it, it was good. Better than hetro sex honestly. He came harder this way, and when he had come in Benny, Benny used his powerful arms to flip it around, and then he rode Dean. Dean had never been bottom before, and he liked it too, almost better. But when they came down from their high, it was still Benny in his bed and not Cass. It was still Benny’s cum that was smeared across Dean’s body, not Cass’s. It was still a burly southerner and not his blue eyed beauty. But Dean let himself be pulled close to Benny’s chest afterwards, and he still let himself have at least this. He liked Benny. And Benny wasn’t Cass, but he was something. And besides, Dean knew he would have to move on sometime. Why not move on with a strong, muscled, southern boy? So Dean slept. And he didn’t have nightmares.  
One date turned into two. Two turned into six, and six turned into Benny moving in. He got the Sam stamp of approval, and Gabriel flirted with him incessantly. Dean asked him why, and Gabriel said that it made Sam jealous, and then he fucked harder. Dean promptly spat out his coffee and washed out his ears. But it was okay with Benny. Dean reminded himself over and over that nobody was going to be Cass, and Cass wasn’t coming back to him. Not anymore. It had been over a year and a half since that moment by the lake. It was time to move forward. So, Benny. Benny was a good guy. He treated Dean well, bringing him flowers and chocolate, visiting him at work, and not leaving his dirty underwear on the floor. He made Dean coffee every morning before he left, and he fucked like a sex god. So life settled into a routine. Benny woke up at four in the morning to work at the tracks, making coffee and kissing Dean goodbye. Gabriel was already up and gone, having gotten up at three to go make bread at the bakery. Dean got up at seven and drank the coffee that Benny had left for him, woke up Sam—who was working at a law firm in town—and pulled on his blue jumpsuit and went to work. He worked until one, when he took his lunch. Then he worked on cars until five, and then he clocked out. He drove Baby 2.0 home and made dinner. Benny knew now about magic and wizards, and he had taken it well. So it wasn’t odd for him to come home to Dean charming mushrooms to sauté themselves and knives to chop onions. He got home at six, Gabriel came back at five thirty, and Sam was the last to come home, rolling in at six fifteen. Dean fed all of them, and then Sam charmed the kitchen clean, Dean popped open four beers, and they sat on the back patio and chatted about their days. Gabriel was always the first to go to bed, and usually, Sam wasn’t far behind. And after Sam left, the night was Dean’s and Benny’s. This particular night, Dean smacked Sam’s ass on the way by and shouted goodnight. Sam flipped him off and shouted goodnight back. Then they were alone. Dean had been sitting on their outdoor love seat, cuddled up next to Benny. Now, it was just them, so setting his beer down, he crawled on top of Benny. Benny nuzzled Dean’s neck as it passed and as Dean planted one knee on either side of him, Benny took a little fabric of Dean’s shirt in his teeth and tugged. Dean smiled at him, and for a second, he saw Cass sitting there. But he shoved the blue away and focused on the brown staring up at him. He cupped Benny’s face in his hands and kissed him. Dean had almost forgotten in the time between Cass and Benny how much he loved the feeling of stubble under his lips. He rocked his hips a little and ground up on Benny’s groin. Benny groaned and slipped his fingers up the back of Dean’s shirt. His calloused hands stroked Dean’s smooth back and dipped down the back of his jeans. Dean rocked a little harder and then he pulled Benny’s shirt off of his head. It was early July, and the night was warm. Benny pulled off Dean’s shirt and then unbuttoned his jeans. Dean stood up only long enough to slip them down and kick them off. Benny pulled his down and yanked off his briefs. Dean pulled down his boxers and then straddled him again. Dean ground up on Benny’s cock a little, causing him to moan. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he lowered himself onto Benny’s dick. He groaned and began to grind in tiny circles. Benny splayed his strong hands over Dean’s hips and thrust up gently. Dean picked up gently and pushed back down. The long drag over his prostate was overwhelming. He dug his nails into Benny’s shoulder and continued to piston up and down on his cock. Benny took one of his long fingered hands and began to stroke Dean’s cock. It was already purpling, and precum was starting at the tip. Benny ran his thumb across it and Dean gasped, thrusting in extra deep. Benny gasped as well and his hips reached up to meet Dean’s ass, and that was all Dean could take. With a lurid moan, he came and as he rode through it, Benny came too, filling up Dean’s ass with come and coating his own thighs with the backwash. Dean dug harder into Benny’s shoulder, and thrust his own hips, moaning. “Benny, Benny, oh god Benny!” and just at the climax, Benny thrust once more, harder than ever. Dean’s nails cut skin, and he screamed. “Ahh! CASS!” Then the final wave passed, and he crumpled into Benny’s chest.


	5. Chapter 5

A half an hour later they lay together on the loveseat, their jeans and shirts forgotten on the patio floor, a thin blanket covering the two of them. Dean was tucked on the inside, Benny’s strong, hairy arm covering Dean’s chest. They laid in silence, but they weren’t asleep. But after a while, Benny spoke. “Who’s Cass?” His soft southern accent did nothing to hide the sadness in his voice. Dean stiffened, but he didn’t answer. Benny bit his lip. “Is he the one you think about when we’re, you know.” Suddenly, fucking seemed like such a harsh word. Dean sighed. “Cass was my first love. And you know how those are; it’s hard to let them go sometimes. It just slipped out.” Benny nodded, “I understand.” Dean pulled Benny closer. “I'm sorry.” Benny smiled. “It’s okay.” They slept there for the night. After a while, when Dean had enough time to drift off, Benny snuggled in a little closer. “Dean?” Dean heard him, but he didn’t answer. When Benny was met with silence, he tucked Dean close to his chest and smiled. “I love you.” Dean felt guilt bubble in his stomach, but he still didn’t answer. Benny gave him a minute and then he grinned. “Sleepyhead.” He pressed a kiss to Dean’s neck and after a while Benny began to snore. But Dean didn’t sleep. Not for hours and hours.   
While Dean Winchester was lying naked on a loveseat with a burly southerner in Kansas, Castiel Novak was sitting, fully clothed, on his bed in Luci’s apartment in San Francisco. His room was somewhat lonely. There was a single chair in the corner, a desk, a small dresser, and a bed. The walls lacked, well, everything. The only thing on them was paint and a small clock. The dresser had one picture of Gabriel, Luci, and Cass on it, and all the clothes inside were neatly folded. His Hufflepuff scarf was hung on the back of the door. It was plain, it was lonely, and it was boring. It wasn’t really Cass. There was only one thing in the room that mattered. It was tucked under his neatly made bed. It was a shoebox. Inside it were four things. There was the first wand he ever owned, a small, speckled rock from the lake, a picture of Balthazar, and an index card. And on that index card was the name Dean Winchester. Cass turned the card over and over in his hands. Michael had tried and succeeded to a point in making Cass stay away from Dean. But Dean never really left his mind. He thought of him in class, he thought of him at night, he thought of him during the meals in the Great Hall. But he just couldn’t even acknowledge him. He was afraid. And then Dean said goodbye. Cass gave himself some time to move on. But he didn’t. He tried dating. It didn’t work. Dean was always on his mind. What were the words Dean had said by the lake when he left? Cass replayed them in his mind. “Cass, I don’t know what Michael did to you, but if you ever remember, if you ever decide to come back, I’ll want you.” Cass replayed the moment of the kiss, the final stubbled slide across his cheek. And then it happened. Dean Winchester had said goodbye. He stood up suddenly. “LUCI!” Luci appeared in the doorway. “Eh?” Cass looked at him. “I'm moving out.” Luci nodded. “About damn time.” He picked his teeth. “Where are you going?” Cass looked at the card. “Lebanon, Kansas.”


	6. Chapter 6

Dean was at work. The radio was crackling a little, playing Bon Jovi, and he was tucked under the hood of a 2001 blue Chevy Impala. He was talking to the car. “You know, you may be an impala, but you are missing the greatest features. I knew an impala once, she was a 1967, and lordy she was beautiful.” He thumped something with the wrench. “But won’t hold it against you. It’s not your fault that Chevy started making crap instead of cars.” He rolled out on his little cart and wiped some grease on his overalls. He hopped into the car and cranked the key. The awful grinding noise that had been prevalent when the car came in was gone. The engine was running smooth and quiet, just how it should be. Dean grinned. “Lets get you all cleaned up, honey.” He slipped out of the car and walked up to the front. “Hey Frankie!” The receptionist, a sweet old lady turned around. “Yes dear?” Dean grinned. “Put that blue 2001 impala down for a detail, and then have her sent home.” Frankie nodded. “Okey Dokie!” Dean went over to the company fridge, popped it open and pulled out a cold root beer. He chugged it down and walked back out to the lobby. Just as the door opened. At first, Dean didn’t recognize the man that walked in. He had tousled black hair, an eight-o-clock shadow, and he was wearing a shapeless khaki trench coat. But the moment Dean saw his eyes he knew. He dropped the glass bottle, and it shattered when it hit the ground. The man’s eyes were the shocking blue that Dean had loved so well. Dean opened his mouth to speak, but only one word came out. “Cass?” Cass smiled softly. And when he spoke, his voice had dropped an octave from when Dean had last spoken to him. “Hello Dean.” Dean shook his head, like he was clearing flies. “Cass?” He repeated. Castiel nodded. “You said that if I ever decided to come back, this was where you would be.” Dean shook his head harder. “Cass, you can’t be here.” Castiel cocked his head a little, and for a moment, Dean saw his sixteen year old self staring into that same confused face. The first time he had seen him. His heart caught in his throat. Then stepping over the broken glass, he caught Castiel’s arm and dragged him out to the parking lot, where it was more private. Cass looked at him. “Dean, you said…” Dean cut him off. “No, Cass no.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You can’t just come back here after all this time!” Dean’s breath was starting to hitch. He hadn’t had a panic attack in years, but now it felt like his lungs were constricting. “ITS BEEN TWO FUCKING YEARS CASS!” Castiel flinched when Dean shouted. Dean was almost crying now. “Two years. I wrote you letters, I sent you emails; I called you every week for a year! But you never answered.” Dean bit his lip, hard, to keep the tears from spilling over his cheeks. His heart rate was up, he could feel the panic setting in. “I thought you hated me! I thought you never wanted to see me again! I cried over you! I mourned you! And now you come back here…” That was as far as Dean could get before the panic overtook everything and he had to rest his hands on his knees and take control of his breathing. Cass stepped forward. He laid his hand on Dean’s back, but Dean jerked away. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Cass pulled back. “I'm sorry.” Dean shook his head. “No. You don’t get to be sorry. I'm sorry that Michael abused you and I'm sorry that I wasn’t there. But you didn’t come to find me when you were free. And you wouldn’t let yourself be found. So no, you don’t get to be sorry.” Cass opened his mouth. Dean shook his head. “No. Don’t talk. Not to me. Not right now.” Then with a sound like an aborted sob escaping his mouth Dean turned around and walked to his car. And Castiel stood alone in the parking lot watching him walk away. Dean got in his car. He couldn’t breathe. He started Baby 2.0 and peeled out of the parking lot, choking like he had never breathed before. He could think of only one thing that could comfort him right now. And that was Cass. But he couldn’t go to Cass. So he chose Gabriel. He squealed into the parking lot and stumbled into the bakery, his breath still hitching on every intake. Luckily, the shop was empty. Gabriel was standing behind the counter making what looked like a penis cake. He was just adding chocolate icing. Dean looked at Gabriel, and Gabriel saw the panicked look in his eyes. “Dean?” Dean just took a rasping breath and tried to smile. “Heya Gabe.”   
Two hours and half a penis cake later Dean sat on the stool behind the counter. Gabriel had locked up the bakery early, poured Dean a cup of hot coffee and cut him a slice of penis cake. They sat down, and Gabriel spoke. “Talk to me.” Dean bit his lip and took a long swallow of the coffee. “Cass is back.” Gabriel nodded. “I know.” Dean looked at him. “And you didn’t warn me?” Gabriel shrugged. “It wasn’t my place to say.” Dean looked down at his slice of cake and pushed aside a little. “Do you have any pie?” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Hold on a second.” He came back with a slice of apple pie and Dean started eating it. “So, how is Benny taking it?” Dean shrugged. “I haven’t told anybody but you yet.” Gabriel nodded. “How are you taking it?” Dean looked down at his pie. “It was two years. Two years since I saw him last. Almost two and a half since we spoke last. And he thinks he can just come back now?” Dean shook his head. “I moved on.” Gabriel took a sip of his coffee. “Have you?” Dean looked at him with apprehension in his green eyes. “I'm with Benny aren’t I?” Gabriel shrugged. “Do you love him? Honestly and truthfully, or is he just your way of trying to let Cass go?” Dean bit his lip. “I don’t know.” Gabriel took a bite of Dean’s rejected cake. “Dean, you owe it to Benny to make up your mind.” Dean looked at him semi angrily. “What do you mean?” Gabriel shoved another bite of cake in his mouth. “He’s in love with you Dean. He really truly loves you. And you can’t just use him and then now that Cass is back dump him. You owe him the truth about how you feel.” Dean bit his lip. “I don’t know how I feel though.” Gabriel nodded. “I understand.” He finished the slice of cake and cut himself another. “Dean, when you are with Benny, do you feel like you did down by that lake with Cass?” Dean bit his lip. “No.” Gabriel topped off Dean’s coffee. “When you look at Benny, what do you see?” Dean looked at his coffee cup. “I see a man who has been through too much. I see brown eyes and soft curls. I see Benny.” Gabriel nodded. “And deep down, does that truly make you as happy as it did to look up and see blue eyes staring back at you?” Dean looked out the window at the passing traffic. There was a little boy who was walking by with his mother. They stopped to look at the cakes displayed in the window. Dean felt his throat catch a little. “No. It doesn’t.” Gabriel finished his second slice of cake and cut himself a third slice and Dean a second slice of pie. “Dean, if Cass is truly what you want, you need to pursue him.” Gabriel picked a little at his left sleeve. “No matter the cost.” Dean looked over at Gabriel and his green eyes met Gabriel’s. “But he was gone for two years. Not a peep. If it weren’t for your connection to him, for all I knew, he could have been dead.” Gabriel nodded. “I know. But if it is him that makes you happy, you need to look past that.” Gabriel’s voice took on a more serious tone. “Dean, it’s your heart. Only you can know what it really wants. And you should listen to it, no matter how much it hurts.” Dean looked back outside. The mother and son were gone now. His heart dropped. “Gabe, what am I going to tell Benny?”


	7. Chapter 7

Dean didn’t make dinner that night. He was too nervous. When Benny came home he was sitting on the couch reading. Benny hung up his coat and walked in. “Hey hon.” Dean looked up at him. “Hey babe.” Benny tucked his broad frame onto the couch with him. “I'm going to take a shower. Care to join me?” Dean grinned, but his heart wasn’t in it. “Sure.” The hot water steamed around them as they showered. Dean washed Benny’s thick brown hair and Benny scrubbed Dean’s freckled frame. After they were clean, there was some quick shower sex, and then the two of them, clean, and dry put on their pajamas and lay down on the bed. Benny snuggled up to Dean and tucked Dean into his burly arms. But Dean pulled away and sat up. “Hey Benny, can we talk for a minute?” Benny nodded. “Of course.” He sat up too, facing Dean across the bedspread. Dean rumpled his hair. “There’s no easy way to say this.” Benny slid his hand onto Dean’s thigh. “You can tell me anything Dean.” Dean bit his plush lip. “Cass came back today.” Benny slipped his hand back, and it rested on Dean’s knee. “Cass? The Cass you told me about?” Dean bit his lip. “Yes.” Benny’s hand pulled all the way back. “When?” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “He came to my work today.” Benny nodded. “And?” Dean looked into Benny’s eyes. “He came back for me.” Benny sucked in a breath. There was a painful pause, and then Benny spoke. “Do you want him back?” Dean bit harder on his lip and a bead of blood welled in his mouth. Benny’s eyes were filling up with tears. “Dean, do you want him?” Dean looked at Benny’s eyes, but the pain in them was too much. He reverted his eyes to the duvet. “I don’t know.” Benny nodded. “But you're considering it.” Dean reached out his hand. “Benny.” Benny cut him off. “Dean, I understand. You need some time to decide.” He bit back a small sob. “But please, please don’t lead me on. Not any more than you already have.” Dean shook his head. “Benny I wasn’t leading you on, I loved you.” It came out before Dean could stop it. Benny looked like he had been punched in the face. “Loved?” Dean cursed. “Fuck, no, Benny, I didn’t mean it that way.” Benny stood up. “I need some time.” Dean reached out for him, but Benny pulled away. And then he grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and walked out the door. Dean called out after him. “Benny wait!” But Benny didn’t stop. And he left Dean sitting on the duvet, silent tears rolling down his cheeks.   
That was how Sam found him. Dean hadn’t moved from the duvet, but his knuckles were bleeding anyway. He had slammed them into the headboard. There was a stain of blood on the wood and a small dollop on the duvet. Dean was staring at the wall. His face was set, and his jaw was clenched. There were dried teardrops in his eyelashes. Sam walked in. He saw Dean’s knuckles and drew his wand to repair them. Dean tucked his hand into his shirt. “Leave them.” He didn’t look at Sam. But Sam sat down next to him anyway. “Gabe told me about Cass.” He took in the scene a little more. “I assume you told Benny.” Dean didn’t speak. Sam sighed. “It didn’t go well did it?” Dean bit his lip. “You think?” Sam shrugged. “I'm sorry.” Dean looked at him now. “There’s nothing you can do.” Sam nodded. “Gabriel wants to talk to you. I told him no. But if you want, we can trade off.” Dean bit his lip. “No, I want you to stay.” Sam nodded. “Of course.” After a while, he flipped back the covers and gently laid Dean down. Then just as they always had whenever they had to sleep in the Impala or when there weren’t enough blankets to go around, Sam tucked his bigger frame around Dean’s and they fell asleep. Back when they were smaller, Dean used to keep Sam warm, and now, though Dean rarely let him, Sam was big enough to take care of Dean. But this time he did. He allowed himself to be tucked into Sam’s arms and he allowed himself to sleep. And when he woke up screaming bloody murder, Sam was there to calm him down. Gabriel slept alone that night. And in the morning, none of them said anything.   
Dean didn’t see Cass or Benny for two weeks. Two week of restless nights. Dean had so many nightmares that Sam and Gabriel made a little sleep schedule. Sam slept with him on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Gabriel slept with him Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Dean spent Sunday nights alone. But on the Monday of the third week, Cass came back. Dean didn’t talk to him. He saw him in the lobby and their eyes met a moment. Then with a quick word to Frankie, he slipped into the back until Cass left. On Tuesday, he was there again. Frankie bombarded him with propaganda for her knitting club until he left. He came back on Wednesday. This time he signed up for the knitting club and left. And when Thursday came, he was there. He had brought his knitting needles. So he just sat and waited. Frankie had given up. So Thursday evening, when Dean left work, Cass was there. He was leaning against a Prius. Dean looked at him. He was wearing an obviously home knitted Hufflepuff scarf, his shapeless khaki trench coat, and his black hair was tousled. He looked at Dean with those shocking blue eyes. “Hello Dean.” Dean rolled his eyes. “What, are you stalking me now?” Castiel looked taken aback. “Stalking? No, I just wanted to talk to you.” Dean sighed. “Well, what do you want to say?” He asked impatiently.” Cass looked hurt, and Dean regretted his words instantly. Cass swallowed. “I just wanted to say, well, I'm sorry.” Dean cocked his head a little. “You're sorry?” Cass nodded. “Yes Dean. I'm sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I'm sorry for just disappearing like that. I'm sorry for not sticking up for us. I'm sorry that I let Michael get inside my head. I'm sorry I wasn’t there for you. I'm sorry for it all, from that moment in the headmaster’s office to now. You didn’t deserve that.” At the end of this monoluge Cass’s voice was starting to hitch a little. “But above it all, I'm sorry I left you.” His voice cracked. “I truly am.” And before Dean could say a word, Cass slipped into his Prius and drove off.


End file.
